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@exltwounds told me they were having a shit day so i wrote this depravity that iāve had unfinished in my works for so long because we donāt write fluff on this channel. happy saturday!!!!
warnings; 18+, no gendered terms but reader is afab, slight dubcon, improper use of tokushin but i mean that literally, tamsy is an obsessed reprobate
āGet that thing away from me,ā you snap from beneath him.
Tamsy pouts. āYou donāt like her?ā He twirls his wrist and the loose string rewraps itself around the staff.
āāHer?āā you repeat.
āTokushin is a pretty girl,ā he claims. āAnd well behaved. Well, better behaved than you.ā He stares at the object for a moment as if it speaks directly to him.
āOf course it is, itās an object.ā
āAn object that does my bidding,ā he corrects. He wishes you were the same. Heāll get you there eventually. He canāt wait to memorise your expressions.
You feel the staff and the harsh wool slide up along your leg, just shy of your pelvis.
āWait a secondā¦ā
You feel his hand shift. He holds onto the larger part of the distaff, keeping the thread tightly locked around the cage. The small handle taps once along the bone, harsh and hard.
You try to close your legs. You manage with some success before he pries them back open and slots his hips in the middle. The bed dips with the added weight.
He stares at you almost like heās bored. His free hand creeps from beneath your thigh and loops upwards until his fingers find the skin along your hip below your panties.
To this, he looks displeased. āWhy do you even have these on?ā He tugs once at the fabric. His lips pull to the side. His fingers are skittish, wildly feeling the expanses of skin heād otherwise never access. Your stomach pools beneath his touch. Your thighs lock around his waist, desperate to just close so you can get up and leave.
āYouāre not serious, right?ā you ask nervously.
āAbout?ā His thumb presses to your clothed clit. He grinds down, careful not to let his nail snag on the fabric. It catches easily against malleable flesh he wants to ruin.
His thumb then dips around the hemming of your panties and slides curiously until heās pulled the fabric to the side. He almost laughs at the glitter pooling around your hole. You visibly clench once exposed, and you grit your teeth.
Something cold slides along your navel. Itās solid, like wood.
You bark out a cry, āThatās enough!ā
āI havenāt even started yet,ā he says. āJust relax.ā The rounded wooden tip of Tokushinās handle presses gently to your clit. It circles the bundle once, twice, three times, then again and again, and you realise heās not teasing you.
He pushes down harder, angling left and right slightly until your hips eventually twitch. You let out a sob when he hits you just right. His free hand holds you down by the stomach. You canāt help but try to squirm. The ache is awful; the nerves fire up into your belly and deep inside. Itās almost painful. Itās a slow crawl to finish, and Tamsy only lets up just before you can cross the edge.
āSee? Isnāt it lovely?ā
Youāre not sure if heās talking to you or the distaff in his hands. You clench again. He removes his jinki for a moment before his thumb returns to rub gently at your clit, almost like a reward. Almost in praise of laying there and letting him have his way with you.
Heās not really looking at your face though. His eyes are glued to the glitter between your legs. It glimmers tauntingly, and his thumb slides easily to encompass the wetness pooling over your cunt.
Youāre so easy.
He shifts for a moment. He flips his hair back with a quick turn of his head before he shrinks down and tastes the pad of his thumb. He almost drools before he lowers himself enough for a gander with his tongue.
He ignores, with effort, your swollen clit. His nose nudges unintentionally against it and you gasp. He needs you wetter than this, and he decides his spit will do the trick. His tongue glides easily against your cunt, tracing the rim of your hole with a dizzy groan. You reel your hips back to pull away from him, but he simply chases.
His fingers lock your thighs in place. Your legs ache from being held so far apart, and the humiliation almost outweighs the feeling of him utterly devouring you. His tongue is hotter than you feel.
Your cunt oozes with slick that he happily drinks.
He wants nothing more than to press his tongue deep inside and stay there for hours. He thinks he deserves it. He thinks the only way to get close is to have every part of him inside of you until heās in your skin, and youāre one of the same.
His cock strains in his pants.
His brows furrow.
He refrains.
Youāre hot. Your skin is on fire. The ceiling only spins. Tamsy is the only thing you can focus on, and how he pulls back every so often and you get a glimpse of his tongue flattening against your clit.
He knows itās working. He also gets lost eventually when his hand works between his thighs. Youāre slowly forgetting his intentions. You barely even register the handle of Tokushin twisting gently and coating in slick. He slides it over the rim of your hole. Maybe you just think itās his finger; itās certainly thin enough, but not nearly as warm.
Tamsyās nose flattens against your pelvis as his tongue works your clit. You heave, hole clenching around the handle before he angles the instrument just enough to push in just an inch.
You immediately seize. The dull ache of his tongue becomes a needed distraction. He sucks gently and your thighs twitch open instinctively.
The ache grows worse. His tongue slides over your clit over and over again.
āFuck,ā you manage.
And it feels so good that you begin laughing.
Tamsy pushes further. The handle sinks deeper inside of you and you sigh in relief.
Ooh. Tamsy grins into your cunt.
Itās when the entire handle is inside that you squirm. The handle is cold and stiff. He twists it gently and you jerk.
āThatāsā¦ā
Tamsy pulls back. Experimentally, he pulls the handle out slowly.
You hiss when he pushes the entire length back in. You reach downward and try to shove him off with gritted teeth, but Tamsy jerks his wrist backwards and wretches the handle out of you completely. You tense up as his tongue abandons your clit.
One of his hands splays out on your hip. You stiffen in retaliation, ready to bark out at the premise of him pushing down and pinning you to the bed. He crawls up to your hips, then your waist, then both of his hands push down eagerly on your shoulders.
You huff and his hair blows out of your face.
You can see his grin in the low orange dim of the lamp.
āYou look disappointed,ā he observes. āAm I not good enough?ā
āNoā¦ā Your chest strains beneath your shirt. āNo, youāre good.ā You feel small beneath him. āYouāre great.ā
He breathes sporadically. His breath hits your face in waves. His pupils are blown out, and his eyes dart frantically across every lift of your eyebrow, or every twitch of your nose, or the slight tremble in your lip.
Then, his smile drops.
āDo you love me?ā
You blink, completely stunned by his question. āWhat?ā
Tamsy looks expectant. āI love you.ā His eyes widen at his own confession. Thereās a shaky grin on his lips, open mouthed and almost too large for his face. His teeth are covered in spit, and a glimmer of saliva escapes the corner of his mouth. āA lot.ā
You shift beneath his weight on your shoulders. Sweat covers your neck and every delicate piece of cartilage that weaves into your collarbone. The flesh is littered in pink and purple.
āReally?ā you ask.
Tamsy hums. Heās still staring. He leans downward slightly. One of his hands abandons your shoulder to tap the yarn strewn around Tokushin against your cheek.
āI love you,ā he reaffirms.
āIā¦ā The handle of his instrument is sparkling in the low lights of your bedroom. āI love you tooā¦ā
āOh.ā Tamsy freezes. Itās like the entire world stops for a moment, and he stares through you like he can see every interaction of your veins. Like he could reach beneath your flesh and twist until every line pulled free from its place.
You hear nothing but the creaking of the bed when you shift, and the unsteady breathing emitting from his mouth. Itās so shaky you worry heās not getting enough air.
āYou okayā¦?ā you whisper to him.
You can barely see his face.
āHeyā¦ā you utter.
āHi,ā he responds. He bites his lip so hard it bleeds. The pain is enough to snap him from his stupour. He wants your knuckles embedded onto his flesh. He wants to burn black and blue from all the love you can promise him. āIām okay.ā
āShow me what she can do,ā you say quickly. You reach upwards and cup your hand around his instrument. āYou said sheās good, right?ā
Tamsy doesnāt respond.
You think youāre trembling.
Tamsyās eye twitches. Jealousy surges hot in his veins.
You screwed up. You stiffen immediately. āWhat can you do, with her?ā Your hand jerks from his instrument to clasp his hand. Your fingers slot between his, and your forearm pressed to his own. You feel his crinkled sleeve that youād snipped at with your teeth to tease him, and the outline of one of your bracelets he wears. āWhat can you do to me?ā
Tamsy swoons and his nose nuzzles into your cheek.
Tokushin trembles in your grasp, and her strings whirl first around your wrist and his, gathering tight until your fingers feel fused to his. He keeps your hand locked with his. He wraps his other arm around your waist beneath you on the bed.
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Can I request Tamsy with the prompt: "You can't get rid of me that easily." Hehe
200 Follower Event (ended)
Tamsy x Fem!Reader - reader is a Giver, a mortician, and whose vital instrument is a scalpel turned scythe
Warnings: Tamsy is his own warning, obsessive, stalking, yandere if you squint, mentions of anatomy as reader is a mortician (nothing too descriptive just be aware), hints at manga spoilers
Word count: 1k
~:/:/:/:~
You inhale the sharp tang of bleach and formaldehyde the moment you step through the mortuaryās double doors, a scent so familiar it feels like the walls themselves are breathing it back at you. Your gloved fingers tighten around your scalpelās cold stainless-steel handle. With every precise incision, the blade parts pale flesh like silk, revealing the quiet architecture beneath: neat rows of veins, the shining ivory of rib, the soft give of muscle. The hum of fluorescent tubes overhead casts a clinical glare, but you prefer itā no shadows hiding here, only clean lines and order.
Then you sense him before you see him: a height that crates the door, a wash of gold-and-blue hair catching stray light as if heās illuminated from within. He edges into your peripheral visionā always watching, always patient, like a predator waiting to close in. A shiver snakes down your spine, equal parts dread and something you canāt name, as though electricity crackles between you both.
The people in town call you the Lady of Death, a crown you wear in whispered reverence and fear. Corpses donāt gossip or sneer; they lie silent beneath your hands, and you prefer it that way. Yet your left leg, once wholly operational until a trash beastās jagged claws raked across it, twitches with a dull ache. You remember the creatureās festering spikes matted with decay, its hollowed āeyesā wild as it tried to pry your bone from your marrow like some grotesque suitor coveting a prize. With your scalpel turned into a vital instrument, a long and beautiful scythe, you were able to hold it off until Cleaners passing by saved you. You swallow a shudder at the memory.
At least it did not prevent you from continuing your work.
Under the stark lights, long dark silhouettes stretch across the tiled floor, converging where you stand bent over a chest cavity. Your scalpel flashes, carving away the stubborn skin, gliding along the sternumās edge. The scent of damp linen and antiseptic mixes with the faint metallic tang of old blood. Your heartbeat is a slow drum, matching the drip of embalming fluid into a pail at your feet.
Nights blur in this hush, measured by the ticking of a wall clock and the echo of your own breath. Then Tamsy slips into your world, turning the stillness inside out. The first time you see him, itās at a dimly lit bar on a rainy evening, a night you were forced out with your coworkers: he leans against the polished mahogany with that same impossible poise, swirling amber liquid in a crystal glass. His gold-ringed eyes lift to you over the rim; theyāre too curious, too fond. He speaks in a clipped, lilting tone that makes every word feel custom-tailored, and you canāt decide if you want to laugh or run.
Later on, outside the Giver headquartersā a mass of concrete block you pass by on occasion for businessā he emerges from a side entrance as though summoned. The scent of damp stone and wind-whipped shampoo clings to him. Each time he appears, you catch a flash of those knowing eyes, calculating and strangely intimate, as if heās mapping you out like one of your cadavers.
He approaches you after you finish a report on Cleaners who will receive a burial at your business, Tamsy holding an antique scale cradled in gloved hands. Its brass plates are etched with ivy tendrils, and its mechanism moves with the soft click of centuries-old hinges. āThis would suit your collection,ā he murmurs, voice soft as velvet. āAnd you neednāt ask where it came from.ā The scaleās weight in his hand is indisputably precious, though stolen, you suspectā and it makes your chest tighten.
āHow do you know what I keep?ā you demanded then, fingers tightening around your coat lapel. You keep your voice even as always, there was no need to lay out grievances to a man you had no qualms with. He only smiles, that maddening half-curve that promises secrets.
But today, with him invading your work, the air grows taut. Your tools lining a steel tray gleam beneath his scrutiny. Heart hammering, you sheet a bodyās arms at the shoulder, coaxing them into place. He hovers in the doorway, eyes tracing the curve of your favorite scalpel.
āSo this is where the magic happens,ā he purrs, voice echoing off the tiled walls. āSuch exquisite artistry.ā
Your jaw clenches. Beneath your professional mask, adrenaline surges; half fear, half something darker. You pivot the cadaver to hide your trembling hand, stealing glances at him: the way his coat hangs loose, how the fluorescent light crowns his hair like a halo gone awry.
As you stitch a wound closed, he leans against a counter, fingertips tracing the rim of a forceps as though afraid to touch. āYou fell from the Sphere, didnāt you?ā he says suddenly, eyes alight. āI can see it in your stance.ā Your fingers freeze in mid-stitch, eventually placing them down altogether.
āHowāā you begin, voice brittle.
His index finger lifts to his lips in a single, deliberate shush. The tip of his nail glints unnaturally. āDonāt trouble your pretty little head.ā He steps forward. āI know enough to keep it between us, yes?ā
His posture is unhurried as he moves around to stand in front of you. His warm palm covers yours, and you taste copper on your tongue. āIād hate to see you on this table instead of... these others.ā A veiled threat you understood perfectly.
Your breath catches. He circles you, each soft-footed stride pulling you further into a web of fascination and fear. The overhead lights stutter, shadows flickering across his face.
āConfess,ā he whispers, voice low, a cascade of silk that sends gooseflesh racing across your skin. āThe nobles framed you. They feared your brilliance.ā He stops close enough for you to feel the electric pulse in his shirt. āBut I know the truth.ā
His grip on your hands tightens as he leans closer, enveloping you in an intoxicatingly bizarre aura. āIf all goes to plan,ā he murmurs softly, āat the end of this, Iāll take you there with me, as my bride.ā
Before you can answer, he leans in and, with an almost casual cruelty, sinks his teeth into your left ring finger. The crack of bone is loud in the hush. You gasp, tear-bright eyes locked on his elated grin as blood wells around his lips. You wrench your hand free, distant, yet you cannot look away.
He withdraws, blood staining his lips as he chucklesā light, triumphant, completely unhinged. You stand frozen, staring at him in horror as he chuckles, the sound light and jovial.
āYou canāt rid yourself of me so easily, darling.ā His voice echoes off the walls, you realize he has woven you into his web; and there, you are more conflicted than ever before.
using taro to theorize is really cool! what does it say about tamsys ability to fall in love and what that looks like? thanks
Absolutely. Letās go š
(Posted the reading w/o pictures because Tumblr and my internet hate me right now)
Side note: I really loathe internet definitions for each individual card, because when theyāre put together with other cards in a spread, tarot tells a story. And I think thatās important to remember when reading.
TL;DR bro hates vulnerability to absolutely no oneās surprise but yes, he can and has the ability to feel romantic love towards someone. And I do not believe he would just use and dump you once you outlive your usefulness. Youāre useful to him because of how much turmoil you make him feel inwardly. Tamsy is not the kind to even let you that close to begin with, even if just to use you. Romantic feelings and relationships could prove useful to his plans, sure, but itās too risky to try or deal with the fallout. I think that makes gaining his affection scarierā because you will know itās genuine.
Also, realistically, heād either (most likely option) feel absolutely nothing towards a reader, just like how he is to everyone else.
Or, he would slowly start to be intrigued and obsessed. After all, everyone is a means to an end to this guy, but like Iāve stated previously, it takes a very specific type of person to gain and keep his interestā in a way that has the potential to turn romantic. Heās very all or nothing in that regard. Not someone you want interested in you lmao
āCan Tamsy feel love? What does that look like?ā
3 of Pentacles Reversed (interesting this is the second time this came up for him), Ten of Swords Reversed, Ace of Pentacles, Wheel of Fortune Reversed
Yes, he can feel romantic love. This is pre-relationship. He does not want a relationship; itās a distraction and he has no interestāitās risky and messyābut that doesnāt take away from emotions that you bring out of him. Itās toxic and very inward, though. On the outside this is not something that would be shown, or would be shown very little. Again, itās an upward battle of vulnerability with this guy. He despises it. But itās something he would inevitably learn to do for you and ONLY you. You would get special privileges as, most likely, the only person who matters to him (minus Rudo, ofc) and in a very different way. In a You & Him vs. The World kind of way. If that makes sense. It would be far from healthy, though. Heās quirky like that.
Ten of Swords in reverse signifies trauma and healing (so many theories on his backstory oowghhhah), Ace of Pentacles slapped in the middle there he sees love as an opportunity (shocker), but with Wheel of Fortune in reverse itās like heās hesitant and overwhelmed at how much you make him feel; he eventually succumbs to it, but external forces outside of his control (or even another group) make it difficult to move forward. He would get addicted to the feeling without giving up who he is or his goals.
Heās a weird, complicated little guy. Very much a fallen angel.
Clarifying cards used: King of Swords, Page of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles in reverse. These just reaffirm what the above says.
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what do you think tamsys goal is if you dont mind me asking?
If we are taking just him and his own personal goals into account, I believe he wants to burn it all down and remake some sort of new world. I think his disdain and spite for the Sphere is genuine.
If we take his twisted goal to push Rudo over the edge into play, then it could tie into my first theory of remaking the world and getting revenge; or Tamsy is related/knows Rudo and Regto and wants to see the Surebrec family go down a path of total destruction and annihilation. It would hit two birds with one stone; Tamsyās self-efficacy could be vindicated through Rudo wittingly or unwittingly destroying the world, while perhaps getting revenge on both Sphere and the Surebrecs.
I could be totally wrong, we just donāt know the full extent of Tamsyās beef with Rudo and the Sphere yet lol
I love your tamsy hcs I just think he would crash out big time if anyone even suspected his secrets lol
Hi anon! Thank you for the ask.
Oh absolutely. I definitely agree with you. And the great thing about headcanons is that they can easily be disagreed with!
Iāve seen so many takes of his character as a purely black and white evil guy that itās starting to get annoying and insulting to him as a character lol
The problem with Tamsy isā- we really just truly do not have enough to fully grasp why he is the way he is, what his true goals are, and all the whys in between. He does not have remorse, doesnāt really care about people, and has such a twisted sense of love towards pushing Rudo to the brink of insanity that itās easy to go āwhoop heās doomed and would never genuinely care about anyone.ā Iāve seen so many takes of his character being a one-sided villain who would be awful and nasty and purely abusive to a partner and I just disagree with that. Again, the beauty of headcanons! However, I just think it is reducing his character down to something black and white, and while it is a valid assumption, we still donāt have enough to fully go off of. While heād be far from healthy, I feel heās so multi-layered that my own headcanons and analysis donāt do him justice.
If anyone suspects his secrets I do absolutely agree he would crash out BIGLY. But heās weird and mentally unwell and I think his rationale would be āif I canāt beat them, then they WILL join ME!ā Or something along those lines. A part of me truly believes he is a victim of the Sphere and it has shaped him into something horrific (not a defense, he absolutely is in control of his own actions as a grown adult). Heād violently despise Readers and if, over time, they donāt seem like theyāre going to try and āfixā him, then the āhateā will still be there but itāll shift more into obsession. Which is why I think attracting Tamsyās attention is the worst thing in the entire world that could ever possibly happen. Heās weird and will stalk and will try to manipulate even if a reader knows or suspects, because thereās not much else he can lose, yknow? I donāt think he would go āfuck itā and just burn everything down if they only just knew ā if they knew and donāt say a peep, then again heās keeping them by his side. Heād almost see it like a duty to put a leash on them and in a weird way, I think heād admire their respect. But only after a looooong time. I donāt think his suspicion would ever fully dissipate.
Gaining his attention is such a dangerous thing. Like, I cannot preface that enough lol. And it would take a very specific type of person to do this, so pray that it isnāt you lol. Not only would it be exhausting to keep up with his mind games, it would absolutely turn into obsession. He would be obsessed with you. If anything were to happen to his little spy and scapegoat (reader/you), then he would 110000% burn everything down. Point blank. You would cause a myriad of emotions to stir inside of him that, even if itās super unhealthy, heād become addicted to it and want to savor the feelings you bring out. No matter how uncomfortable it is, I donāt believe heās one to just off someone who invokes the closest thing to actual āloveā he starts to feel. (Which is a very common theme I keep seeing in peopleās takes on him with reader-inserts)
I do hope Tamsy gets his ass beat, though. Genuinely. He needs a thorough humbling in the future and maybe then he can have a really cool character arc. Or not. I like pure unashamed villains too. Either way, I look forward to seeing how his character and story will pan out.
Threw some tarot cards as a little treat. I did this for unreleased gacha characters pre-Fontaine in Genshin and it freaked me out how accurate it was. Eh, but either way, just for fun. Weāll see how that little freakās story goes.
(King of Swords, 4 of Pentacles, and 3 of Pentacles - a self assured person able to separate head and heart (inner vs outer Tamsy) and knows how to utilize/manipulate teamwork as needed to get to where he wantsā nothing we donāt already know)
(2nd pic): 4 of Wands, 6 of Pentacles reversed, Ace of Swords - thereās a lot going on with him and he truly believes in what heās building toward but is underneath all of his aspects beginning to lose himself in the mire; I suspect thereās outer influence such as other Spherite higher-ups but ultimately Tamsy has the wherewithal to find the truth ā this would coincide with my theory heās also being used and manipulated)
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